


Mouth to Mouth

by softblackvelvety



Category: Siouxsie and the Banshees (Band), The Cure (Band), The Glove (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Choking, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, M/M, Masochism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rating: NC17, Smut, robert top, steven bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 19:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softblackvelvety/pseuds/softblackvelvety
Summary: Steven and Robert are drunk after clubbing, Steven tells Rob he can make handcuffs out of a belt, matters progress. Progress a lot.
Relationships: Steven Severin/Robert Smith
Kudos: 3





	Mouth to Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> title is from The Glove’s B-side “Mouth to Mouth”, B-side to the “Like an Animal” single.

In 1983, Robert and Steven were hardly ever seen without one another. Their friendship started out by a mutual love of illegal substances and music, but now they found that, even though in some ways they were quite different from each other, their friendship could be about more than just that. Sure, most of the time it was drugs and sex and music they talked about, but when they occasionally talked about important things like death and love they knew it was more than just the superficiality it seemed to be from an outside point of view.

Tonight, though, Robert and Steven were tapped into the sex and drugs side of their friendship. They were at Steven’s flat, listening to vinyls and smoking both cigarettes and joints, after bar hopping as a release from a day of recording as The Glove. Steven’s flat was tiny and messy, just a mattress on an inadequate metal bedframe on the floor with instruments resting halfway on it. Bottles of all sorts and colours were piled up, he had Oriental rugs haphazardly overlapping each other in whichever direction, waistcoats and button-ups and trousers hanging in random order on a clothing rack. The only organised area was all of his vinyls, which he was particular about ordering alphabetically. Both of them actually liked the disorganisation quite well. It made it homey. They couldn’t imagine there actually being enough room to lay down completely other than on the bed.

They didn’t quite know how the conversation came to the subject of bondage and sex, it had simply been a progression of connections they made that drove it there - as was with most of their conversations. Neither of them had quite warmed up to talking about the kinky side of sex this blatantly with each other, and there was still some definite awkwardness weighing down the air. They had talked extensively about all the women (and men) they’d fucked before, but never anything as wild and kinky as  _ bondage _ . Steven was talking about his first experience with and realisation of bondage, which was with a punk girlfriend in high school who taught him how to make handcuffs out of a belt.

“Really?” Robert challenged when Steven told him he knew how to do this.

“Yes, why?” Steven retorted. 

“I think you’re a lying wanker.”

“I- am not.” There was silence, except for the spinning Bowie vinyl, and Steven was thankful for his sunglasses that got him out of making direct eye contact with the guitarist.

Robert’s mouth opened and closed a few times, on the verge of saying something, and finally he spat out, “Show me how to do it, then.” Steven raised his head.

“What?”

“Show me how to make handcuffs with a belt. I’d like to know. For practical purposes.” 

“Why do  _ you _ want to know how to?”

“What are you getting at?” Robert spat.

“Well, I wouldn’t think you ever have anything other than vanilla sex.”

“You wanker.” Robert seemed particularly fond of calling Steven a wanker when he was drunk.

“Stop calling me a wanker, you wanker,” Steven retorted. Robert stuck his tongue out and took another drag of the cigarette.

“Just fucking show me.” His seriousness got Steven to grin.

“Okay,” Steven accepted, and reached for Robert’s waist.

He recoiled immediately. “What the fuck are you doing?” Robert demanded.

“I’m getting your bloody belt off so I can show you.” 

“Oh.” Robert looked at him in a way that told him,  _ go on then _ , and the bassist undid it from Robert’s silly high-waisted striped pants. Robert leaned close beside Steven to reach the bedside table (which was just a stack of books) and put out his cigarette. 

“Here,” Steven said, handing Robert the belt, “I’ll tell you what to do and you can practise on me.” Robert chuckled knowingly, raising his eyebrows.

“Why do you want me to do it on you?” he teased.

Steven looked around. “Erm... y’know, doing it yourself helps you remember. If you’re the one to physically do it. It’s how I learnt since it was my girlfriend who wanted to be tied up.”

“Ah,” Robert smirked and mocked, “sure. It’ll help me _ remember _ .”

“Just take the bloody belt if you want to learn,” he said, and threw it at him. Robert chuckled at getting Steven all riled up and took it. Steven couldn’t tell for sure, but he had a feeling his face went red. Robert looked down at it, then up at Steven.

“What now?”

“You really want to learn?”

“Yes, ya’ wanker.” 

Steven nearly slapped him for calling him that again, but just stuck one of his hands out and directed, “You make a single loop around one of the hands and put it through the buckle.” Robert threaded one side through the metal clasp and tightened it around Steven’s wrist, exaggerating his movements and making it extra tight to taunt him. How Steven loved the vaguely familiar feel of leather on his wrist....

“Okay?” Robert urged. “What next?”

“Yes, yes... then loop it around the other side to make a figure-eight.” Robert did this too, and continued carefully following what Steven was directing him to do. 

Finally after a few minutes of this back and forth, Steven’s hands were bound. “It gets pretty tight,” Robert noticed.

“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Steven responded, looking down at his hands. 

“It wasn’t difficult.”

“No, it’s not.”

“And very, er... sexy, considering how resourceful.”

“Indeed,” Steven replied. They were both suddenly quiet, different from their usual playfully bickering demeanour, wondering where to go from here. 

“Shall I take them off now?

“If you’d like,” Steven said, trying not to be too blatant about how fond he was of the situation, but also not refusing. But the other had already noticed.

Robert bit his lip playfully, exhaling a small breathy chuckle, and sat on his knees facing Steven, observing his current state. “D’you like this?” Robert teased. Steven said nothing. He smirked and flicked the top of one of Steven’s hands as he asked, “You do, don’t you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” Robert laughed. He looked him in the eye, or at least where he thought his eyes would be if he didn’t have on those damned sunglasses. Robert plucked his sunglasses from his face since Steven wouldn’t be able to do much about it in his current stage and, looking right into his eyes, stated confidently, “You like this.”

Now Steven had to look  _ him  _ in the eyes with nothing between them. “So what if I do?” He was simultaneously feeling very bashful, but also more careless and forward than he would normally be in this situation. 

Robert grinned. Slowly, he playfully snarled, “You sick... fucking... masochist.” He never forgot why Steven chose the surname Severin, after the character in a sensual novel written by the very man whose name the term “masochism” is derived from. He knew the way he spat out the phrase must have thrilled Steven with the degrading nature of it. 

“I am, aren’t I...” Steven breathed. Without any warning other than a quick evil smirk, Robert pushed him back on the bed and grabbed his hands, holding them over his head while he peered down at Steven. His wild hair and face were silhouetted from the light right behind his head. “What’s this all about?” Steven slurred as he laid limply in bed, pliant under the weight of Robert’s spread legs over his torso and the force of his hands pushing Steven’s still bound hands into the bed. Looking into Robert’s eyes was easier now that his face was shadowed and he could hardly differentiate between any of his features.

“Don’t you like this?”

“Stop asking me that.”

“No.” Robert’s firmness surprised Steven. “Tell me you like it.”

He took a long breath. “Yes, I fucking like it,” Steven said, exasperated from this question that Robert couldn’t stop asking, and Robert grinned. Steven was filled with both fear and desire as Robert leaned down in the direction of his face. His intentions with him were clear as mud.

“Sick,” Robert muttered, scraping his teeth along Steven’s jawline, “fucking...” he continued while Steven visibly got goosebumbs, “masochist, you are.” Neither of them quite knew how serious or playful this whole situation was yet, but when Steven let a noise out - a noise that wasn’t quite a whimper but was certainly more than a sigh - as Robert moved his teeth from Steven’s jawline to the little bit of exposed neck that his high-collared shirt permitted, the more serious dynamic that it was progressing towards was clear. Robert chuckled at Steven’s noise. He could have some fun with him. 

Robert moved from Steven’s neck and finally nibbled on his earlobe, then came up from toying with his ear and hovered his face only inches away from Steven’s. He flicked his tongue out and licked Steven’s lips, not allowing them to kiss yet like the other wanted, and was trying to do. Robert lapped at his lips and Steven glided his tongue along his own lips, enjoying the succulent taste of lipstick and alcohol on the other man. Finally Robert finally pressed his mouth into Steven’s, a sloppy open-mouthed kiss, and nibbled, taking his beautifully full lower lip between his teeth and gently pulling. 

“O- oh,” Steven let escape from his throat as he arched back and wrapped his hands - still bound, but free to move around if they stayed together - around Robert’s neck. However, Robert put a stop to that immediately, roughly grabbing Steven’s hands and pushing them onto the bed.

“Keep them,” he snarled right into Steven’s ear as he tightened his assault on Steven’s bound hands, “right there.” He scraped his teeth on his ear, and dragged his tongue back to his mouth, lavishing Steven with wet kisses. 

Robert had been erratically stroking Steven’s chest from over his shirt, and Steven finally had enough of the too-faint touch. “Take my shirt off,” he told Robert. Robert thought of not letting him off so easy, but decided there was more time for that later and that he wouldn’t waste his time making Steven beg just for his shirt to come off. He worked at the buttons, cursing Steven for choosing a shirt with so many of them. He accidentally tore a few completely off, desperate to get back to more exciting things than taking off his shirt. With his hands tied together, the shirt couldn’t completely come off so Robert pulled the middle open to expose his chest, leaving the long sleeves on his arms, just happy to have more of Steven’s skin open for him to devour. Steven craned his neck to watch the sweet sight of Robert licking and kissing his chest, but he couldn’t hold his head up for long and laid back, arching into Robert’s touch.

Not at all thinking about Robert’s earlier demands for him to keep his hands up, he reached down and tangled his fingers in the other’s hair. Robert was too absorbed in sucking on Steven’s nipples to protest right away at him moving his hands from where he told him to keep them, but once he successfully got Steven’s nipples hard, he pulled his hands from his nest of hair and pushed them back, his mouth going back to Steven’s at the same time.

“You impatient,” Robert breathed between kisses, “disobedient whore.” The way he spat it out thrilled both of them. Moving up so he could reach the bedframe, Robert straddled Steven close to his shoulders. All that he noticed with Robert sitting right there was the bulge in his pants, not immediately obvious but definitely there. He could feel his own hardness growing, too. With Robert’s groin so close to his face, he was so distracted that he hardly even noticed Robert tying his hands to the metal bedframe with the ends of his shirt, the shirt whose sleeves were still on his arms but the main part, which Robert was using to attach him to the frame, was pulled off of his body. It was a messy job, but it would do. Robert looked down and admired Steven, all pretty and now  _ properly _ tied to the bed for him to play with. Steven felt anticipation build in his stomach as Robert looked down at him like a meal. His wide eyes only made Robert desire him more.

Robert quickly pulled his own shirt over his head and chucked it to the side, rushing to get back to the pretty blond boy underneath him. He leaned over, still straddling the other man’s chest, so Robert’s own chest was hovering over Steven’s face. Darkly, he commanded Steven, “Suck on my tits.” He never thought he could be so profane, but being with Steven made him lose all control and reserve he ever thought he had. Steven couldn’t respond, as Robert’s nipple was in his mouth already. He suckled at it until it got hard and even after that, until Robert put the other in his mouth without any time between to even breathe. Robert moaned as he looked at the ceiling and saw stars, moans which kept Steven encouraged.

Pulling his chest out of Steven’s mouth, Robert asked - demanded from - Steven, “What do you want?” 

Steven panted and said, “My trousers.” He was incapable of being more articulate.

“What about them?” Robert hovered over Steven, forcing the eye contact that the bassist so despised.

“I- Take them off.” He could feel his cock straining against his thick, tight trousers and it was too much. Robert raised his eyebrows at Steven, waiting, it seemed. “Take them off,  _ please _ ,” he tried, and this earned a grin from Robert. He now wasted no time hopping off of Steven and pulling his pants down, throwing them onto the floor, and chucking his own pants over them. 

They were just in their underwear now, aside from the part of Steven’s arms that were still trapped in the long sleeves of his shirt, the shirt that would be staying on the whole time because of how he was tied to the bed. Steven was wearing very tight underwear and the strain against the black fabric was blatantly obvious now, obscene, even. Robert was just as hard, but with his loose boxers it wasn’t as clear. He set his eyes on Steven’s neck and began sucking hard on it, intent on leaving a dark hickey. What made Steven cry out, though, was when Robert - still sucking just as hard on his neck - pinched his nipples nearly as hard as he could. There came a point where Steven couldn’t tell if Robert was adding more pressure or not because it was all just pure pain - and pleasure. Exactly what he loved: being degraded, hurt, being turned into nothing. It all mixed into a heady feeling of the deepest, most exciting pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” Steven cried out hoarsely, “ruin me.” In the midst of his desire, Robert realised how glad he was to have Steven like this, in his favourite, most unhinged state, the reason he was called Severin, how only very few people ever saw him. Without thinking, Robert ground into Steven over through their underwear while he twisted his nipples and left a mark on his neck. It was a bold move that neither of them had felt encouraged enough to do yet, but was a gesture they were both incredibly thankful for. The friction was simultaneously relieving and frustrating, only making both of them want more - and only Robert able to do anything about it. 

“More, more,” Steven begged. He was completely crazed in heady pleasure as Robert dragged his mouth and teeth slowly down his body. Finally, Robert settled on his hipbone and, provocatively using his teeth, dragged Steven’s tight underwear down from his pale, bony hips. Robert, fabric in his teeth, sneered up at Steven who was watching him with anticipation. His hard cock sprang up when it was finally freed, and he shivered from the cold air hitting it... Robert would fix that soon.

“Mmmm,” Robert hummed in his throat as he intently stared at Steven’s dick right in front of his face, licking his lips exaggeratedly. Steven tried thrusting, but there was nothing to get friction against, then he tried bringing his hands down to Robert’s head, but the fabric his hands were tied with kept him from doing that. He tossed his head back with exasperation and whined. “You’re such a vocal  _ whore _ ,” Robert growled, and finally touched Steven’s cock, putting his hand on just the base to tease Steven. He held his hips down so Steven couldn’t thrust or move, so Robert could completely control what he was feeling and how much he was getting.

“Please,” Steven wailed.

“Please what?”

“Please, I want more.”

“You want more?” Robert asked, squeezing his hand on Steven’s dick tighter but not otherwise moving it.

“Yes!” He cried out. “I want more.”

“Beg for it, slut.”

Robert’s degrading words made him even more tongue-tied and unable to form words. “I- Please, more, I- I want more, your- oh, your mouth, please...” He squirmed around, rumpling the sheets below him. He had never been more embarrassed, and never more thrilled... never more turned on and desperate. Steven let out a cry of ecstasy when he saw Robert’s black tangle of hair go down on him as he felt the warm wetness on his cock. “Fuck!” He exclaimed as Robert took all of him in his mouth and back in his throat, gagging but not pulling himself up yet. Steven had waited long enough, he deserved at least some relief. However, Robert didn’t want him getting too close to orgasm yet... then he wouldn’t be able to do everything with him that he planned.

He slowed his pace, stopping often to play with only the tip of Steven’s cock and wipe off the smears of precome that gathered there. Robert was turning the pliant older man beneath him into a whimpering, begging mess becoming more incoherent with each stroke of his tongue. He moved up to reach Steven’s mouth and place tender yet deep kisses on his lips while he distractedly stroked him. Robert erratically thrust against him and Steven was naturally inclined to pull his underwear down and stroke him, but in this position that held him captive, it wasn’t going to happen.

Robert playfully pressed his ass, still cloaked in the fabric of his underwear, into Steven’s cock while he once again took Steven’s full lower lip between his teeth and pulled it. The vibrations of the bassist’s moans then went right into Robert’s mouth which drove him too wild. He suddenly flung off the one remaining article of clothing, revealing the part of him that Steven so longed to see... to touch...

Robert straddled Steven still, this time with his ass raised higher in the air so as not to lower himself onto Steven’s cock just yet, and lightly licked the edge of his lips. He loved not completely kissing Steven, just licking him to give him a tease of Robert’s gorgeously succulent and masculine taste. He bit Steven’s lip, except this time was different, much different, as he sat himself on Steven’s cock, going slowly to give himself time to adjust, giving Steven reason to bite Robert’s lip now. Steven was sure that Robert would be the one inside  _ him _ , and the unexpected warmth was bliss. Steven let out a sobbing moan as Robert sat on him all the way down to his balls. 

Robert and Steven’s heady noises of frenzied breathing and whimpers mixed together in the small flat. Once Robert adjusted to Steven’s size, he started bouncing up and down, in slight pain from the friction that came with fucking without lube, but as he stroked his cock simultaneously it swirled the two sensations together to make it pure hot arousal. Steven writhed as much as he could, being tied up, feeling useless without his hands to jerk Robert off with or fondle his chest or help guide him up and down. “I...” Steven said distantly, “I want you,” he gasped as he stretched his long, bass playing fingers out, trying to get even closer to Robert.

Robert paid no mind to him, just supported himself using Steven’s shoulders as spots for his hands to gain balance as he bounced up and down with more urgency. What a sight, Steven thought as he looked up at Robert with his head arched back and neck looking all pale and exposed, his soft chest and belly so vulnerable, and his eager bouncing on Steven, using him as a fucktoy. At least he was inside of Robert, otherwise he’d surely be getting no friction. Robert, as much as he wanted to be a top, always had to be the one getting fucked, Steven mused. “Robert...” Steven cooed thoughtlessly.

Robert grunted and spat, “Shut your mouth, slut,” which only made Steven grow more vocal. As Robert multitasked trying to keep up bouncing up and down, up and down on Steven he shoved his thumb into Steven’s mouth. Steven, still letting out (quite loud) noises from his throat suckled sweetly on Robert’s finger and had at least stopped making coherent words. His tongue explored all over Robert’s finger intruding his mouth and relished how smooth the skin was, considering how often he used it for guitar. 

As Robert was stroking himself while bouncing on Steven and his finger was in the other’s mouth, the only hand he had to support him was the one in Steven’s mouth. It felt almost like Steven was getting choked because of the proximity of the pressure to his throat, but more like his chin was being crushed. Either way, he fucking loved being owned and controlled, pushed around and crushed without one thought being given to his own needs. Robert moved his hand to Steven’s chest, remembering how he cried out when he twisted his nipples not that long ago, and added the same pressure again. Steven nearly screamed as that sharp feeling overtook him. Robert thought he could feel Steven’s cock get instantly harder inside of him right at the second he pinched his chest. 

“Oh- oh my God,  _ yes _ !” Steven screamed when Robert lifted completely off of his cock, then slammed completely down again, doing this over and over whilst twisting his nipples. Robert was stroking his own cock and getting closer to orgasm just by the sight alone of Steven below him. He looked like an angel with tousled white hair, gorgeously full lips, all submissive and arching back, thrusting his hips deeper into Robert with his eyes squeezed shut and lips barely parted. Robert soon noticed that Steven was muttering, between expletives, little ow’s and certainly more pained noises. He stopped worrying at Steven’s chest but continued thrusting a little slower. Steven looked up at him, bewildered.

“D’you want me to be more gentle?” Robert asked breathlessly. He knew Steven liked being hurt and degraded, but he never wanted to do anything that would ruin things between them or make him seriously uncomfortable.

“Fuck, no, God no,” he sighed, “hurt me, humiliate me... God, I love it, Robert.” Robert grinned and resumed his pummelling of Steven, bringing himself fully up and down onto Steven and continued his assault on his chest, loving how each time he brought his hand back to Steven’s nipple it made him literally scream and cry out. They could feel their cocks pulsing, in unison it seemed, and they would surely soon have enough and explode. 

Robert set his intentions on not letting up from his bouncing on Steven’s cock until they came. He stroked himself frantically, feeling that sensation deep in his stomach twist and turn in the early stages of the beginning of coming. Robert hardly noticed that he was supporting himself solely by one hand on Steven’s throat, cutting off most of his air. Choking was something Steven had never done or been a part of before during sex, but he soon wondered hazily why he  _ hadn’t  _ added it to sex play before. It felt that with no warning whatsoever he was exploding and stars were shooting out of him, his orgasm coming again and again inside of Robert. Robert, who was now coming himself all over Steven’s midsection, spurred on by Steven’s gagged moans and arched back as he bucked and came. It seemed their orgasms lasted entire minutes, and by the time Robert pulled off of Steven’s cock and collapsed, they were both properly wasted. 

Robert absently grabbed a shirt that was near him on the floor, not caring to see which one it was, and wiped the come off of Steven’s chest. Steven was so pale that it was difficult to distinguish between the white streaks and his own skin. He threw the soiled shirt to the side and collapsed onto Steven, head in the crook by his neck and one leg draped over Steven’s thin legs. Steven was still trying, near desperately, to catch his breath. Robert ran his fingers through Steven’s hair, feeling the remnants of gel on some strands from early that morning, so long ago, it seemed.

“Robert,” he sighed, “can you, erm...” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Robert hurried, having completely forgotten about Steven’s captive hands. He fumbled with the shirt, cursing himself for tying it so clumsily and carelessly. Somehow he got it off with much tugging, and he felt bad for jostling Steven around so much. When he finally got the shirt untied from the bed frame, there was still the belt to worry about. Steven could at least lower his hands now. The way he held his hands out obediently to his chest seemed so submissive, and somehow innocent. It made Robert want to be so tender with him. Steven watched with large round eyes as Robert methodically unthreaded the belt. When it finally came off, there were obvious red and purple marks that were already turning more into welts. Robert looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t know...” Steven was laughing, though, and soon Robert joined in, giggling into his chest. “Well, you’ll have bruises in more than one place...” Robert continued as he pressed kisses into each of the marks he gave Steven. There was one hickey on his neck, another lighter one on his shoulder, a marked mouth from tugging on his lip, a mark on his jawbone from when Robert had his finger in his mouth, and finger marks on Steven’s neck. 

“You’ve got quite a collection,” Steven smirked, looking down at his ravished body. Robert laughed sleepily and rested his head onto Steven’s shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. The Bowie record was still spinning, long since spinning round and round in the middle at the sticker. Absentmindedly, Robert took Stevens reddened wrists into his hands and gently massaged them. It was the sweetest thing, Steven thought, that Robert’s last thought before he fell asleep was one of gently massaging and comforting and healing Steven after such a wild night. Finally, Steven had caught his breath completely and was free to drift off to sleep, Robert’s hair tickling his chin as he slept like a drunk baby.

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking love steven can he just suck my blood already


End file.
